


of stone and clay

by Venussisgay



Category: Magical Mystery Tour - The Beatles (Album), The Beatles (Band), The Beatles (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Magical shit, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, But he's confused, Fake Marriage, Heavy Angst, Hurt Paul McCartney, Insecure John Lennon, Jealous Paul McCartney, John Tries, John is a Mess, Kinda?, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Necromancy, Non-Explicit Sex, Paul Is Dead Theory (The Beatles), Paul wants to help, Potions and spells, Rejection, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, but is scared, but they are made not found, loose use of magic, victorian flower meanings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22921363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venussisgay/pseuds/Venussisgay
Summary: Three years after Paul disappear from an adventure that only his familiar, Martha returned from He is considered dead, and John is considered unmated and pitiful, growing wearier of this John finds every and all excuses to run from the village, their home, and the thought his mate wasn't coming home when his running leads him to Ringo, who returns Paul (albeit in a fragmented state) back to John after sharing a similar fate.I suck at summaries but i mean i think it's okay
Relationships: George Harrison & John Lennon & Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 10





	of stone and clay

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fantasy fic, please be gentle cuz im emotionally fragile rn, theres no beta cuz idk how to get one so the grammar is off (sorry if you point out an issue i will go back and fix it) please comment if this worth continuing

John woke up before even the sun and moved to pull up his worn-out socks and then his brown trousers, his shirt, and his pouches and knives before finally, his riding cloak before moving from his little cottage, down the path in the dirt that formed from years of boots wearing it down. 

He held his lantern ahead of him as he trod the pathway that stood high above the bottom of the cliff. He glanced at the other side of the cliff, where many homes were and he saw a few flickering lights in the windows. 

He watched a pair of silhouettes move, pressing lazy morning kisses to each other's lips before he turned to look ahead once more. Nothing was more beautiful, he thought than his village in the cliffside. At dawn or at sunset it was lovely. 

Even still, he grew weary of it, in the home he used every excuse to run from, the people he avoided like the plague. He rather liked the thought of taking off, setting up a homestead in a tree trunk or alone in the forest like the elves before him. 

But, he couldn't leave, no matter his weariness it felt like a betrayal to even think of such a thing. 

He walked down the stone steps down to the bottom of the cliff, he walked the valley, beside the running river that started at the top of the cliff. He walked the familiar path that only hunter and gathers used, up the hill and into the forest, over the circular bridge that stretched above the wide river of Lethe, where the water nymphs laid waiting to lure a careless passerby into the tragically beautiful waters. 

In the forest of shadows held many wonders left untouched by those afraid of friendly occupants that only seemed terrifying if you were a judgmental coward. 

When John got to the small village of woodland creatures he was greeted with shouts. "Oh hello, John! come to visit us again?" an elderly fairy asked. 

"Just visiting, I'm looking for some flowers, that grow, around here," John replied, a basket filled with warm, fresh bread appearing in his hands with a simple thought. "I've brought food, for you dear," He added. 

"Oh, thank you, darling, what flowers are you looking for?" the woman asked. 

"the man needs a whole bouquet, for some spell he's working on, at least a hundred types flowers I've picked and I yet to finish!" John exclaimed with a flourish. 

"tweedia, vererian, vinca, blue violets, fennel, forget-me-nots, elder, jonquil, lupine, locust, phlox! I haven't seen so many flowers in all my years!" he went on with a grin. 

The matron hummed, "must be a hell of a spell," She mused with a grin. "you've ought to have taken one of your familiars, they would have helped a great deal," A younger woman said with a smile. 

"Good morning, Odette, and how are you? would you like some bread?" John diverted with a patient smile. 

"How many flowers are left?" The matron asked, passing out a piece of bread to a small child. "Volkameria, lily of the valley, and white clovers," John replied producing a flower clown for the small girl. 

"there's a field of white clovers just outside the village," the small girl informed, tugging John by the hand to the flowers he sought. 

as John kneeled down, picking clovers he waited, for the girl to say whatever she was holding in. 

"Are you gonna mate with Odette?" She blurted, helping John pick clovers by ripping them from the grown by tiny fistfuls and putting it in the open pouch. "What? why do ask?" John asked, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. 

"Odette says now that you're unmated again you'll want to find someone," she informed. "I'm not going to mate with anyone, Delia," He said with a watery sort of smile. 

John rose to his feet with a sigh, lifting up Delia with a grin. "You'll make a good potion master or an apothecary, maybe!" He teased walking back to the village before continuing his journey for flowers. 

The rest was rather easy to find, as they were on the way to old man Ringo (who was only a bit older than John but acted as though he was a great elder).

Ringo was an odd man that seemed to curl to mislead you from how capable he was, but capability didn't always mean a want to get out of bed before dawn to run all over to find a centerpiece. If John was him, he'd pay the ten coins too. 

Finally, he got to Ringo's cabin that sat at the edge of the woods, hidden in a small valley of a great stone wall, past the curtain of thick vines was his little home, with a pond and a garden filled with many different flowers, and out front, just a few steps from the house was a wide cauldron. 

John always liked his home, secluded from prying eyes, peaceful in a sort of man-made heaven. 

He found the man at the cauldron, adding vials of ingredients to it with a grin. "Oh! good, you've finished!" He said "Come! Come! I need more help yet!" He urged. 

John, ever the servant, came forward and stood in beside Ringo. "Give me the flowers," He said, once again John did as told. 

"put them in the cauldron while I stir it, will you?" Ringo instructed with a grin. "Did you ever want to mate again, after..." John asked mindlessly. 

"No, I was overwhelmed with the search to bring her back, pushed everyone away so they couldn't pity me, I haven't even thought of finding someone to replace her," Ringo responded with a loaded glance. 

"Have you?" Ringo asks, watching John intently. "No, part of me, hope's he isn't... gone, you know, that any day now he'll come to the village and be back in bed," John admits with a sigh. "Rather foolish, I know," he added after a beat with a nervous chuckle. 

"I understand," Ringo said simply, stirring in the last flowers. "It's a bit cold, mind going into the house and get a blanket?" he asked with a barely concealed grin. 

The house was horribly cluttered, papers and recipes for potions laid about. Searching the cabinets and shelves for a spare blanket, he found a spare quilt after some time, before coming back to Ringo. 

He found a mop of dark hair and pale skin, popping out of the cauldron as though it was a lake. The man looked around, his hazel eyes falling upon John's before he grinned. 

"John!" the man breathed, sounding too much like Paul. "Paul? what happened? where have you been?" John asked, rushing to his mate. 

Paul climbed out, wrapping his arms around John as his legs failed him. "What do you mean? I've never left," Paul mused. "Why are you naked, love? I know you love your freedom but you can't just run off for so long!" John said, wrapping the quilt around his mate. 

At this Paul made a face, clutching the quilt tightly to his body. "I've not left! what are you on about?" He asked furrowing his brows. "Paul, You've been gone for three years! we've buried you! where have you been?" 

"John, I don't know what you're talking about," Paul admitted with a worried frown. 

Ringo, who simply was watching as all this transpired finally sought it fit to jump in. "I've brought him back, give him time to adjust," he instructed gently. "this isn't my Paul?" John asked, rapidly pushing the man from him. 

"No, this is your Paul, he's just... missing something," Ringo assured. "clothes, for one," Paul muttered, a bit hurt.

"Paul, think back to a memory, what's the first one you remember?" Ringo asked. Paul chewed on his lip, his eyes moving over to search John's. "coming home from an adventure all muddy and you drawing a bath for me, washing my hair and saying how much you loved me," Paul replied to John, even though the other man hadn't asked the question. 

"do you remember being mated?" John asked, repulsed to see such a fond expression of the face that didn't belong to the thing that wore it. 

"I'm mated? it's you, isn't it? oh, John, do we have kids?" Paul asked rapidly. The closer the man reached out for John, the faster John backpedaled, sputtering away from the dark-haired man's affectionate touch. 

"Why don't you remember?" "He will, John he's just getting accustomed, it'll come back in time, he obviously has memories so it's not unheard of that he'll get the ones he forgot eventually," Ringo reassured with a pat on the back.

"Now be on your way, I'll send word if I require either of you again," he instructed. 

So John and Paul moved forward, Paul moving forward down the path home. Paul looked back at John expectantly. "I can't very well go back naked," He said, opening his arms to expose himself to John. 

"Christ, Paul, you can't just do that! People could see!" John scolded, bringing shaking hands to unclasp his cloak before putting it on the man. He took off his tunic and handed that over to the man as well, leaving him in his underthings and trousers. 

Paul simply grinned as he put on the clothes. "Thank's love," he punctuated with a kiss. It was simple and chaste and all at once reminded John of the ache he had at the thought of never having it again. 

John wrapped his arms around the other man, beneath the cloak he held the man in place, searching the other man's face for so long before resting his forehead against Paul's.

"You've been away so long, I thought I'd never just- hold you again," He whispered. 

"I've been right here with you," Paul repeated, nevertheless returning the man's embrace, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of John's nightshirt. "I love you, you know that don't you?" John said, pressing a kiss to the man's hair. "Of course I know! I love you too," Paul said, kissing John's neck. "You won't leave?" "Not if you don't want me too," 

John breathed in the floral scent that overtook his mate, his Paul, strong and sure in his arms. "If I wake up and you're not here I don't know if I can make it," John admitted, his voice wavering. 

"I'll be here," Paul promised, pulling away slightly to press his lips to the others.

He laid kiss upon kiss to the other man, pulling the man away from the pathway and into the seclusion of the trees. "I'll never leave you," Paul promised, falling to his knees, his fingers popping the buttons of John's trousers. 

John was embarrassingly eager, and though Paul only let a surprised blink before he composed himself and cleaned himself, John still wanted to be swallowed by the ground. 

So when it came time to return the favor, he tried to make up for it, but he found he was over eager with that too. He was eager to have every inch of the man, kiss the freckles and hairs and every crease, He wanted to worship him. 

"Gods, it had been a while, hasn't it? I don't remember this as a regular thing," Paul let out between breaths and groans, staring up at the man on top of him, moving with a rusty rhythm. 

"I love you," "don't leave me," John moaned, a sinful benediction Paul didn't quite know how to answer, but to grip the man tighter. 

John must have gone mad, to be so public, to be so careless and loud. He wanted all to see, his mate had come back, no longer was he pitiful and lonely, his love has returned and loved him still! He'd drop to his knees and worship the younger man's body in the village center. 

If that's insanity, John didn't find he much mind.

**Author's Note:**

> you made it! please leave kudos and comment if you liked it. flower meanings are as follows; tweedia: faithful affection  
> vererian: an accommodating disposition  
> vinca: remembrance of early friendship  
> blue violets:  
> fennel: strength  
> forget-me-nots: true love, remembrance  
> elder: compassion  
> jonquil: i desire a return of affection  
> lupine: imagination  
> locust: affection beyond the grave  
> phlox: harmony, our souls are united  
> Volkameria: good wishes, may you be happy  
> white clovers: I promise, remember me  
> lily of the valley: trustworthy, return of happiness


End file.
